“It was the least I could do for him when he was a friend to Clan MacLeish.”
Esme rested her hand against his chest. “There are too many who hated Torrance. They will not stop. You need to speak the truth and let everyone know who you are.”
“Not until I can prove I have a right to rule Clan Glencairn. Once that is established, no one can object.”
Worry for his safety, for their future together had her trying to make him see reason. “No one would object. The clan would be relieved to have you lead them.”
“I must prove to them who I am, so I can secure my leadership, so no one can step forward and object, so I can make sure you are safe, and no harm can come to you or our bairn if you should carry one.”
“Then it must be done quickly, or I will perish from the fear of losing you,” she argued with a soft smile.
“Love me that much, do you?” he teased with a chuckle.
Her whisper was soft, her eyes intense when she said, “Much more than you can imagine.”
His heart thumped against his chest and his love for her soared. “I want so badly to kiss you right now, but?—”
“Torrance would not do that. He would wear his annoyance for all to see which you are having difficulty maintaining right now. So, turn your desire to kiss me to anger that Torrance is stopping you from kissing me.” Her eyes widened with how fast anger flared in his eyes.
Ryland snarled. “Even in death, he touches you.”
“I want badly to soothe you, but it will not help us. So, stay angry,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and turning her head away from him as if annoyed.
Ryland took advantage of her small act of defiance and grabbed hold of her chin to turn her head to face him and spoke loud enough for those nearby to hear. “Watch your tongue, wife, or I’ll see you locked away in your bedchamber.”
Esme lowered her head. “Forgive me, my lord.” She hurried to whisper, “You better be locked away with me.”
He scoffed, for the benefit of anyone watching them, and she could swear she felt him grow hard against her. A smile hurried to her face, but she kept it from escaping, eager to get home and be locked away with him.
CHAPTER 29
The Great Hall was quiet but for the crackle of the hearth fire and the occasional rustle of servants moving about. Esme sat at a table near the heat of the hearth with her hands wrapped around a tankard of hot cider to warm her insides. They had arrived home late yesterday, and sleep had been the only thing on their minds. This morning Ryland got busy securing the keep and village, making sure no one could approach without warning. She had hoped they could inquire about Verna, the woman Ida had told her about, but he couldn’t spare the time. She tried to inquire about it herself, but people were too fearful of Torrance to answer any of her questions. The cold had driven her back into the keep to get warm.
“You need this.”
Esme turned at Brenna’s raised voice, never having heard the soft-spoken healer raise it.
“Are you deaf, woman, I said I’m fine.”
Brenna stood beside the high table, a cloth in one hand and a small earthen bowl of salve in the other, her gaze fixed on Brack as he sat stone still at a table, his expression stern.
“You are not,” she pressed, stepping closer, her voice firm. “The wound?—”
“You have done a fine job. It will heal well.” He stood so abruptly she stumbled back a step, and he stepped closer, planting his face nearly against hers. “I don’t need fussing.”
Brenna blinked hard. “I’m not fussing.” Her voice cracked, the hurt slipping through despite her best effort. “I just—I care if you heal well as any good healer would.”
He turned to walk away, but her whispered plea stopped him. “Brack, please.”
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn. “Leave me be, woman.”
Then he strode from the hall, the heavy door closing behind him with a final thud that left silence hanging thick in the air.
Brenna stared at the door, the cloth and bowl still in her hands.
Esme watched her. She had seen clipped exchanges between the two and then there were the moments she had caught a tender look passing between them. She had had her suspicions, though she had said nothing to anyone. She thought her suspicions foolish just as she doubted thinking Ryland had returned as Torrance, but she was right. And she felt the same now, though she wondered how Brenna could love a man who made it known that marriage was not for him. Or did Brack wear a mask as well?
Brenna jumped when Esme placed a gentle hand on her arm and, tried of secrets, asked, “You have feelings for Brack, don’t you.”